


One for All

by The3rdTrumpeteer



Series: Refuge and Remedies [5]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Race/Davey (kind of), can be read as pairing or friendship, crutchie's not there but he's mentioned, pssst it's cause he's in the refuge, these boys need some happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 22:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14341890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3rdTrumpeteer/pseuds/The3rdTrumpeteer
Summary: The aftermath of the brawl after Seize The Day, in which there is a lot of running, panicking, worrying, and crying.-or-The One Where Everyone Is In Desperate Need Of A Hug





	One for All

For a fleeting moment, it had felt like they were winning. The strike was the right thing to do; it was the only way anyone would listen to them. Soon, the rest of the city’s newsies would join, and the working kids of New York would finally have a voice.

Then the strikebreakers arrived, and the cops soon after, and everything went to hell.

The newsies scattered. A few bruises and black eyes they could take, but getting arrested meant getting thrown in the Refuge, and no newsie was too proud to admit that the mere thought of the place was terrifying.

When he had started work as a newsie a couple of days before, Davey worried about whether he would be able to sell all of his papers, and if he would manage to keep Les by his side without the kid getting distracted and wandering off.

Now he was worried about if everyone was going to get out of this mess alive.

Davey’s head pounded from the hits he had taken, and he could feel blood and bruises on his face. He barely registered the pain, though; there was still a good amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and the only things he could focus on was finding out if his friends were okay. He managed to push away the cop that was assaulting him and then fled the square, heading in the direction of the lodging house. Davey could hear the cop start to give chase, and he ran just a little faster. But then a pained scream split the air right before Davey turned the corner, and he looked back to see his pursuer turning and hurrying back to the square.

Back to where Crutchie was just visible through the crowd of bulls and strikebreakers, lying on the ground, his arms thrown up in front of his face in a futile attempt to protect himself from the brutal onslaught of blows from his own crutch, wielded by Snyder (though Davey had only seen the man once, he would recognize that evil sneer anywhere). Snyder brought the crutch down again with even more force, and Crutchie let out another broken scream.

Then the cuffs came out, and Davey would later be almost too ashamed to admit that he had turned and fled before the metal cuffs had even closed around Crutchie’s thin wrists.

* * *

By the time Davey reached the lodging house, his panicked pace had slowed to a fast walk. He hurried to the front door, pushed it open, and wasn’t surprised to see most of the other newsies scattered around the main lounge, sitting in groups together or pacing the floor, some with noticeable limps.

Specs, a bruise on his cheek, hurried up to Davey and gave him an uncharacteristic hug, which Davey returned with no hesitation.

“Specs,” Davey said when they had pulled away from each other. “They got Crutchie. I saw Snyder arrest him.” He hung his head. “I…I couldn’t stop it.”

“Shit.” Specs closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Alright, um…your head is bleedin’. We should take care a’ that.”

Davey shook his head and instantly regretted it when pain lanced through his face. “I’m fine. You can’t waste bandages on a little cut. Besides, I have to find Les.”

He tried to move around Specs, but the other newsie grabbed his arm.

“Davey, it ain’t a ‘little cut’. You’se lucky if it don’t hafta be stitched up. Also,” Specs gestured vaguely toward the staircase that led up to the bunkrooms. “We got Les. He’s safe, just has a sprained wrist.”

At Specs’ words, Davey felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The last of his adrenaline faded, and his legs wobbled. Specs noticed and grabbed Davey around the middle. “Let’s get you sittin’ down before you fall over. Hey, Race!”

Specs helped Davey sit down on the lumpy couch and waved across the room, where Race had just finished wrapping a bandage around Mush’s arm, covering a bloody mark that looked suspiciously like a stab wound. He looked up when Specs called his name, and Davey gave a sympathetic wince at his friend’s rapidly blackening eye.

“Whatcha need, Specs?”

“Could you try ta clean up Davey’s face while I find more bandages?” Specs asked. “Half his blood’s outta his head, and he’s gonna scare the little ones wit’ his face lookin’ like that.”

“Hey!” Davey protested in mock indignation, and Specs just grinned before leaving the room. Race appeared in Davey’s line of sight then with a damp rag and a pail of water.

“Alright, Mouth, let’s getcha cleaned up.” Race began wiping at the blood on Davey’s face with astounding gentleness, barely bothering his bruises. “Sorry…this might hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Davey replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Are you okay?”

Race let out a humorless chuckle. “I can’t believe yer askin’ me that when you look like someone emptied a bucket a’ red paint over yer head.”

Davey shrugged. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Seriously, Race,” he put his hand on Race’s shoulder, distracting him for a moment, “are you okay?”

Race sighed and dipped the rag back in the water to wash off some of the blood. “I mean…my face hurts, but I’s not worried about that. I’s worried about Crutchie and Jack. We ain’t seen neither a’ them since the bulls arrived.

“I don’t know anything about Jack,” Davey said, “but, um…Crutchie…”

“Did’ja see him?” Race asked, perking up a little. I lost track a’ everyone in the scuffle.”

“…he got arrested, Race. I watched it happen.” Davey could feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “And I did nothing to stop it.”

“It’s not your fault, Mouth.”

That wasn’t what Davey expected to hear. He looked up at Race. “What?”

“What could you do?” Race continued. “One kid can’t fight a bunch’a bulls.”

“It was Snyder.”

Race froze at the mention of the man’s name. “Snyder?”

“He…he had Crutchie’s crutch. Beat ‘im with it.”

“Jesus,” Race muttered. “Crutchie’s strong. He, uh…oh, god, he’s gonna die in there.” He put his head in his hands, and it was all Davey could do to keep from breaking down himself. Instead, he carefully slid onto the floor where Race still knelt and wrapped his arms around him.

“Race-”

“No, Davey, you don’t understand!” Race shook, but he didn’t pull away from Davey’s embrace. “The Refuge…it’s hell. Actual hell. I know Crutchie’s strong, he always has been…but Jack barely made it out. I…I didn’t even get out myself. The others had ta get me out before…before…”

He couldn’t continue, just seemed to deflate as tears streamed down his cheeks, and Davey only hugged him tighter, unsure what to say. He had had no idea Race had been in the Refuge, but it seemed like that was a story for another, less emotionally-charged time.

“Crutchie will make it,” Davey finally said. “You said it yourself, he’s strong. He’s smart and resourceful and pretty stubborn from I’ve seen. He’s gonna…he’s gonna get out. I don’t know when, but he is. We’ll make sure of it.”

Race nodded, apparently still not trusting himself to speak. Instead, he leaned more into Davey’s hug, and there they stayed until Specs returned with bandages. He took in their tear-stained faces and smiled softly, then lay the bandages on a couch cushion and left again.

And Davey and Race stayed in each other’s embrace for a few more minutes, because there it was safe, and they didn’t yet have to worry about what was to come.

**Author's Note:**

> why yes the title is a lyric  
> and why yes there will be a next part with the next lyric in the song aren't I clever  
> -  
> find my tumblr here:  
> https://poorguysheadisdoingwhatnow.tumblr.com/


End file.
